


Relativity

by collatorsden_archivist



Category: Ashes to Ashes, Life on Mars & Related Fandoms, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PG-13 - Blue Cortina, Time Period: 1973-1981 (Life on Mars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-08
Updated: 2009-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-20 19:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12440370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collatorsden_archivist/pseuds/collatorsden_archivist
Summary: "Sam/Gene with some injured!Sam and h/c" fordakfinvgiven the prompt"You're not the only one who's having problems with his trousers."





	Relativity

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Janni, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [the Collators' Den](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Collators%27_Den), which was moved to the AO3 to ensure access and longevity for the fanworks. I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the Collators' Den collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/collatorsden/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** written for the [Armed Bastards Fic Exchange](www.livejournal.com/~martianholiday).

When Sam didn’t turn up for work Gene thought it was odd, but decided he’d fetch the lazy bastard after the team wrapped up the latest case.

When a call came in from a worried neighbour who swore they heard screams coming from across the hall Gene shouted at Phyllis not to bother the plod and was out the door before she could reply.

It took five minutes to get to Sam’s flat from the station and two more seconds to kick in the door. The second the hinges gave way he spotted the crumpled body covered in blood and bruises lying awkwardly on the opposite side of the room. Gene didn’t remember moving, all he knew was that he was in the doorway one moment and then suddenly he was kneeling in front of Sam’s body; yelling into the radio for an ambulance whilst taking in the bloodied face, the dislocated arm and the rope tied across his throat in a makeshift noose. Gene placed his palm flat on Sam’s cheek, the man wasn’t moving or breathing, but he was still warm. Desperately Gene scanned his surroundings for anything sharp, finding only an empty scotch bottle he smashed it open and leaned over Sam. Pulling the rope away from his neck, Gene severed it with the broken glass as quickly as he could. As soon as the rope was gone from Sam’s throat Gene pulled the body towards him with shaking hands. With trembling fingers he started wiping the blood off Sam’s face. Pinching the broken nose with one hand, he held his lips apart with the other and brought his mouth down over them, wanting to believe the CPR technique Sam had forced him to learn might actually work. In between each breath Gene checked for a pulse. He was concentrating so hard on each step that the first time Sam’s head lurched to the side he dismissed it as a hallucination. The second time it happened Gene stopped what he was doing and began rubbing his hands up and down the sides of Sam’s throat, coaxing him to take a breath. When Sam finally started breathing, Gene almost stopped. He cradled Sam close to his body for what seemed like hours as the man twitched and gasped like a fish out of water.

By the time Ray and Chris burst into the flat (with the ambulance drivers following with a stretcher) Sam was awake and delirious with pain. Time seemed to jump forward again and suddenly Gene was sitting next to an unconcious Sam, in the back of an ambulance, gripping fingers he hoped to hell weren’t as broken as they looked.

***

When Sam regained consciousness he felt nothing apart from a strange sense of drug-induced relaxation. He knew there should be pain but since he couldn’t feel anything other than drowsiness he let himself drift back to sleep.

He dreamed that Gene was sobbing. When Sam asked him why he was crying Gene rubbed his face quickly with the back of his hand and said nothing.

The next time Sam woke he opened his eyes and was certain he saw green ones staring back at him. There was a familiar voice speaking as well, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Instead he latched onto the comforting sensation of someone else's fingers curled around his own.

Later Sam dreamed Gene was in bed with him, kissing his forehead while Sam undid his own trousers and tried pulling them off. For some reason the dream always ended with Gene flushing bright red and trying to get him to do them back up.

Another time he woke up and his father was in the room, he was leering at him and swinging the pipe in his direction, laughing at Sam as he started shaking. When Vic spoke Gene’s voice came out; “What did that bastard do to you?” Strong arms enclosed him in an embrace and Sam fell asleep again.

***

“Gene?”

“ ’lo Sam,”

“You look tired.”

“You’re no prize either, you doped up prat.”

“What have they got me on?”

“Morphine. Doc says they’ve lowered your dosage now so you might start acting normal.”

“What’ve I been doing?” Gene yawned.

“Nothing new, just talkin’ rubbish.”

Sam cringed

“... and pulling down your trousers whenever you got horny.”

Sam paled.

“Please tell me you’re joking...”

"You think that's bad? You're not the only one who's having problems with his trousers, every time you’ve done that I’ve had to hide a stiffy from the nurses on night duty.” Gene prodded the cast on Sam's arm accusingly.

“Err...sorry.”

“Don’t be, never thought I’d get sick of seein’ yer cock but it’s nice to hear you talkin’ a bit of sense.”

“How long have I been out of it?”

“Three days.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yeah, didn’t really think I should let Skelton or Cartwright sit in ‘ere in case you started whipping out yer todger for them too.”

Sam grinned at the joke but made an effort to grab Gene’s hand.

“Thank you.”

Gene squeezed back, but when he spoke his voice was hard. “You can thank me by never putting me through that again.” Sam cringed and looked away. “What ‘appened Sam?”

“I don’t remember.” Gene sighed.

“Sam, the neighbours saw you letting someone into your flat. They recognized Vic Tyler’s photograph.”

Sam tried to pull his hand away but Gene wouldn’t let it go.

“You’ve been mutterin’ 'Dad' in your sleep and shaking like a leaf.”

“Gene...”

“It's alright. I know who you think he is Sam, and I know nothin’ Cartwright or I say is gonna change yer mind.”

“Gene, you don’t understand.” Gene shook his head.

“I don’t have to. I know you fought back 'cause the plod found ‘is blood on the ground and I've seen the defensive wounds on yer arms and legs.” He paused and looked directly at Sam. “That’s good enough for me.” Sam nodded and rubbed his eyes absentmindedly .

“Did you find him?” Gene scowled.

“No, the bastard got away.” Sam nodded again, the drugs keeping the confusing mix of relief and fear at bay. He looked at Gene.

“You would’ve killed him if you had.” It wasn’t a question but Gene nodded in response, not bothering to lie. He looked over at Sam with a genuinely curious expression on his face.

“Would you have minded?” Sam stared at Gene and thought about it.

“I’m not sure.” The bizarreness of the situation finally hit him and Sam struggled to hold back a laugh. Snorting slightly, he shook his head. “Any chance we can talk about something else?” He looked up hopefully.

Gene silently picked up his newspaper and began flicking through it.

Just as Sam was going to apologize the paper was placed on his lap, held open to the sports pages.

“City thrashed United while you were out of it.”

Gene grinned and Sam found it impossible not to smile back.


End file.
